


Paradise Lost Paradise Found

by 2CELLOSFanFiction



Category: 2Cellos, Dusan Kranjc - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-28 00:19:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2712047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2CELLOSFanFiction/pseuds/2CELLOSFanFiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I had lived in paradise for so long it was lost on me now...but this client will show me that paradise comes in many forms</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradise Lost Paradise Found

Some people would say I work in paradise and when I first started here it was but that was a long time ago now and after a while the palm trees are just trees and looking out over the never ending ocean just a reminder of how far you really are from any other people. I work in a very exclusive resort that can only be reached by helicopter or boat. There are no cars on the island, only our resort. I am a villa host, let me explain, each villa in this resort has its own host someone who takes care of the villa and its occupants. We ensure that the villa is fitted out to meet the client’s requirements and meet all of their needs while they are visiting with us. Each host has their own apartment connected to their villa for their personal use. Each villa accommodates up to two people with all the modern necessities one would expect.

I have entertained, oh not in that way, there are other hosts that will perform all sorts of “entertainment” for their clients but I’m not one of those, I can organise whatever my client might be looking for, young girls, boys, girlyboys, anything that they request but I don’t play that way, but I digress. I have entertained the rich, the famous, the rich and famous and the want to be famous. I have picked up the dirty underwear of every Tom, Dick and Harry that most people can name, but my current client, let’s call him Dick, is checking out today so I’m picking up Mr Dicks underwear from the floor, sorting and packing his belongings as he flutters around the villa with a whole don’t you know who I am attitude……oh yes I know who you are Mr Jumps on the couch proclaiming to be in love Dick. I wish these ‘celebrities’ would just remember that we are all people and just because you happen to have been in a few movies or made a bit of music your still just human, but oh well time to ship Mr Dick off in his helicopter.

Twenty four hours before my new client is to arrive I receive notification of their requirements, usually I’ll get things like, the bed needs to be facing this way, the water must be some exotic brand of bottled spring water chilled to some precise temperature, this coloured flowers, this food, that music the list just goes on and on. However this ping on my IPad was the source of some surprise, the clients name is Dusan Kranjc, hmm not famous that I know of; don’t remember seeing that name in any of the socialite pages, maybe some rich kid looking for somewhere secluded to play out some fantasy. I scroll down to the requirements section….blank….something must be wrong, there is never no requirements. I close the app and reopen it hoping to reset the information. Scroll back down, still nothing, ok that’s new. Scroll down to the other information section and see that villas 9 and 11 are included on this booking, click through to their information and see that all of the villas are to be occupied by single men, the others are Luka Sulic and Stjepan Hauser, don’t know them either. This booking just keeps getting more and more interesting. However I have always made it a rule not to search out information on my clients, its often better if I don’t actually know who they are before they arrive that way I don’t have any preconceived ideas, so looks like I have the next 24 hours to do whatever I like, this doesn’t happen often either, so off to the pool for me for a few hours, maybe read or listen to some good music and enjoy a rare day off.

Feeling slightly sunburnt but totally relaxed I stand on the pier with the other hosts expecting arrivals today watching the boat glide over the calm sea wondering what this Dusan will bring. As the boat bumps gently against the stops of the pier, there is a commotion behind us and all the hosts turn as one to see the Manager and two porters rolling trolleys down the wooden pier. OK this never happens, who are these guys? Our manager pushes though our line and proceeds to the boat and, I assume, greets the clients in some guttural foreign language. Oh dear! I am employed here due to the fact I am Australian and therefore speak English, which is what the clients usually want but if these guys don’t speak English this could be difficult. Oh well smile back in place and back to my mantra ‘smile and nod’. The porters unload the luggage from the rear of the boat and I look over to see….musical instruments? What is that some big guitar case? And drums? Maybe, well at least that explains why the porters are here, but doesn’t explain why these musicians (?) are here. I step forward and give our usual island greeting to Mr Kranjc who seems to blush, before saying in an almost American accent ‘Please call me Dusan’. Relief floods me as I realise I won’t need to work out what he wants his whole stay, his voice is a beautiful mix of almost America with something European blended in, well I’m sure there’s some story there and people seem to like to talk to me so I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.

I lead Mr Kranjc, sorry Dusan, back to his villa and ask him if there is anything he would like from me. He gives me this crooked look that I have seen on many clients, it’s a questioning look of what will you give me, so I explain what I can provide him, trying to hide the usual emptiness in the pit of my stomach as I realise that all these men are the same, they come to my island to fulfil some fantasy that they can’t do at home. However as I explain, Dusan’s eyes, rather beautiful green eyes at that, get big and that blush creeps back into his cheeks. He shakes his head, ‘No No I don’t want anything like that’ he stammers. OK so I go on with the list of things he can partake in while at the villa, there is the private pool overlooking the beach on one side of the villa or the social areas in the centre that offer television, music, the dining room for those that don’t wish to eat in their villa, massages, the spa rooms or pretty much anything else he can think of. ‘No’ he says in that exotic accent of his (I must remember to find out what the deal is with that) ‘I think I’ll go and find my friends….’I respond ‘certainly sir…’ “Dusan” “Sorry Dusan villa 9 is out the door and long the path to the left and villa 11 is to the right, would you like me to show you?’ Dusan shakes his head and makes for the door, as he passes I hand him my pager ‘you can contact me from anywhere in the resort with this if you need me’ I tell him, he nods and disappears through the door.

I make my way through the connecting door to my apartment reflecting on how strange this Dusan is and the effect he has had on me in such a short space of time. I don’t usually notice much about my clients and they don’t usually invite me to use their first names, its always Sir or Madam or Mr Sir and they usually demand all sorts of things from me the minute they step off of their transport. This Dusan he’s so quiet almost shy, with beautiful deep green eyes, broad shoulders that I’m sure would be able to support any damsel in distress, dark short yet scruffy hair with that lovely designer stubble covering a strong jaw. Oh but I must not think about my clients this way they are just clients and will be off my island before I know it, time to cool things down with a shower while I can.

I must have dozed off because next thing I know there is a scream, a splash and another scream so blood curdling that it’s the least I can do not to cover my ears and hide. I race through the door and through the villa to find a tall strongly built man standing at the side of the pool a look of pure hatred burning from his eyes as he glares across the pool towards Dusan who almost appears to be cowering away from the man but also has a look that says don’t mess with me on his face. I reach for my security buzzer and am about to press the distress button when the man yells “I’M SO SICK OF THIS SHIT!’ volts over the railing and disappears along the beach. It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts before I ask Dusan if I should get someone to go after the man. ‘No’ he replies ‘he’ll get over it’. ‘Friend of yours?’ I question. Yeah that’s Stjepan he can be a bit of a prima donna but this is a new low even for him, says Dusan as he drops what even I can see are the remains of what was a beautiful cello at my feet and goes back into the pool to retrieve the rest of the floating debris.

‘Leave it’ I say ‘the pool boys will clean it up that’s what they are for, is there anything I can do for you Si..Dusan?’

‘Actually I could use a beer’

‘Certainly Si…Dusan what would you like we have….’

‘Just whatever you like and get one for yourself I could do with someone to have a drink with’

It’s not unusual to be asked to join our single clients over a drink or even a meal, often they come to the island to escape but find that the loneliness doesn’t take long to set in but this is not a usual situation, it’s certainly not every day that a crazy musician comes into my villa and breaks a beautiful instrument into my pool.

I put the beer on the table but Dusan is lost, watching the black dot that is his friend storm along the beach. I’m not worried now, it will only take this Stjepan a few hours to walk a whole lap of the island and he will obviously need that time to cool off from whatever had happened. So I stand holding my beer watching Dusan watch Stjepan. Water glistens on Dusan’s board shoulders and drips down his strong well defined back and continues dripping down over muscular legs until it creates a puddle on the deck at his feet but he doesn’t turn until Stjepan disappears from view. When he turns, his head bowed slightly, I see the tears gathered at the edge of falling, but his eyes harden as he focuses on the pile of broken wood and strings at my feet and with an angry swipe the tears are gone. He kicks the remains of the cello reaches for his beer and swallows the contents without drawing breath. I hand him the beer I am still holding as he collapses into a chair with a defeated sigh and starts to tell me the story of why they are here.

Dusan talked for hours and I kept him in steady supply of liquid lubricant, here is the abridged version. Dusan is the drummer of 2Cellos, Stjepan being one of the 2 and Luka the other, I had yet to meet Luka but that too would come in due time. They were here to record both the music and video for one of the songs off their upcoming album. Things had not been going to well with the band, their last album had not sold as well as Stjepan had hoped and Dusan and Lukas side projects had been taking up more and more of their time, Stjepan was feeling abandoned by them and like he was the only one that cared about the success of 2Cellos. This at least explained the instruments and maybe some of the reason for Stjepan throwing his cello in my pool. It transpired that Stjepan had also been having woman problems, although he wanted a serious relationship all he was finding was young girls that didn’t for fill him to the level he desired, but there was one lady that had followed his career for years that he knew wanted him but he was struggling to admit he wanted her too, especially after he had rebuffed her numerous times over the years he didn’t think she would take him seriously anymore. There was a lot more to the Stjepan story that I don’t need to go into here but he was a troubled soul looking for support and love and feeling that he wasn’t getting it from any quarter of his life. As Dusan’s talk came to an end he lowered his bottle of beer to the table, unsteadily got to his feet, picked up the broken cello and said he had better go talk to Luka about what to do now, it would take at least two days to get a replacement cello shipped over and then would Stjepan play it or break it?

As it was now 2am I paged Becky in villa 9 to ensure Stjepan had returned, being assured that he was now sleeping across his king sized bed I decided it was time to take myself off to bed too, usually I will wait until my client is ready to retire for the night but it was late and there had been far too much excitement for one night, Dusan could fend for himself tonight.

I arise with the sun as usual and check my post box for any deliveries. Mom had sent me a parcel, it’s nice getting little reminders of home every now and again. She has sent me a block of my favourite dark chocolate with Madagascan sea salt. I put in on the counter and proceed to make the breakfast Dusan ordered. Yes we Hosts do basic cooking too; it can add that homely feel and that element of home cooking that many of my clients have missed out on for too long. Coffee machine on, eggs and toast cooking, fresh juice in the juicer. I feel a presence and look around to see Dusan leaning on the bench holding my chocolate.

‘Hey that’s mine!’ I scold. I’m usually always pleasant with my clients but Dusan is in my space the clients never bother to come into my space they always wait to be served. But here is Dusan hair still damp face flushed from the heat of the shower that he must have only just gotten out of, and he smells divine. I’m distracted from breakfast and the quiet morning is broken by the piercing scream of the smoke alarm as the eggs burn. I fumble around waving the dish towel opening windows and punching in the code to stop the alarm, my pager adding to the din as other hosts and management try to check if everything is OK. All the while Dusan leans against the counter watching me not at all bothered by the racket or my obvious embarrassment. I contact management and assure them that we are OK and no we don’t need help, remove the now burnt eggs from the stove top and dump them in the sink and go to the fridge to start again, before I get there, however, Dusan grabs my wrist ‘Don’t worry about it, toast, coffee and juice is fine, and I might have some of this?’ He said holding out my chocolate ‘dark chocolate is my favourite and I’ve never had it with sea salt before’

‘For breakfast, you’re going to eat chocolate for breakfast?’ I question

“Sure why not, I’ve eaten worse for breakfast before’ he grins. Oh that smile, it’s contagious and beautiful and I can’t help but smile back, knowing full well that I am unlikely to be enjoying much of my chocolate

I put his remaining breakfast on a tray and ask where he would like it served. Dusan opens the door into the villa and holds it open motioning me through, I walk to the table by the window but Dusan heads out to the deck again and sits at the table, it is only then that I register that a slim dark man is already sitting there. I put the tray on the table and Dusan introduces me to Luka. Oh now here is a very fine almost aristocratic looking man with the deepest largest brown eyes I have ever seen but they seem to carry a great amount of sadness too. I ask if he would like coffee or juice. By the time I return with Lukas juice both he and Dusan are deep in conversation in that same guttural language the manager had used the day before, must find out what language that is. Dusan looks up flashes me a smile and give that nod of dismissal that all service staff knows.

Cleaning burnt eggs off of a pan first thing in the morning is not something that fills me with joy but I need distraction so that’s what I do and clean my kitchen to its usual sparkle, eradicating any smell of smoke. Once I’m done I enjoy my first coffee of the morning leaning on the bench in exactly the same spot Dusan had only a short while ago and my mind is a buzz with thoughts of him, that smile, that smell, those beautiful broad shoulders and that scruffy hair that I would very much like to ruffle. I have never been this effected by a client before and I have had some of Hollywood’s finest pass through my villa, but this man His smile lights up the room and his body heat would keep you warm on the coldest of winters nights, I’d noticed that heat radiating off of him whenever he is within arm’s reach and it has taken all of my self-control not to reach out and see if he really is that hot.

I’m knocked out of my daydreams, literally as the door swings into the kitchen and Dusan steps back into my space. As I recover from the intrusion and the impact Dusan hands me the now empty chocolate box with a look of sheepish guilt on his face but almost a look of defiance in his eyes, ‘Sorry’ he says, and I can tell that part of him is exactly that, ‘Dark chocolate is my guilty pleasure and this was great. Where did you get it? Can we get more?’ At the last question his beautiful green eyes light up like a boy at Christmas, full of anticipation and delight and he gives me the goofiest grin I have seen since leaving my eight year old cousin at home. I cannot help but forgive him and I laugh as I explain that it is actually very expensive chocolate that came from my mother in Australia and can only be purchased at one location in the hills. I had never seen this chocolate available anywhere else in the world, others like it but nothing that really compared to the bitterness of the dark cocoa and the crunch and texture of the sea salt crystals. The disappointment that envelopes him is palpable and I feel devastation at not being able to give him the only thing he has actually requested from me so far, but I know that even if I contacted my mother now it would take at least a week for the chocolate to be delivered here. I jokingly suggest that Dusan will have to visit Australia to get his own and he seems to contemplate the idea while twirling the empty box through his fingers. The twirling is quiet hypnotic as the box rotates through his nimble fingers. I didn’t realise I was staring until I heard Dusan laughing, he thought it was quiet amusing that I was so engrossed in his hands but I had always had a thing for hands and his were rather nice and manual dexterity on that level really is sexy, and I told him so, shocked at my own forwardness. This is not how I behave I don’t flirt with clients I am the professional conscientious one, but this man was awaking things in me that I had long forgotten.

Dusan grasps my hand, drops the chocolate box on the counter and pulls me out of the villa a big grin on his face, ‘I have to show you something’ he says all excitement and joy as he races along the boardwalk to the back of the resort. I had noticed a new building being put up here over the last few months but had been too busy to really pay too much attention. It now transpired that a state of the art recording studio has been set up. I stood at the threshold taking in all the knobs and sliders on the massive mixing desk in front of me, it had been years since I had seen one of these and never one this impressive. Dusan was tugging at my arm like a child trying to get to the toy section, his inpatients evident as he pulled me through the glass partitioning into the studio. Set up in the middle of the space was a gorgeous drum kit. I don’t know much about musical instruments but even I could tell this was no amateur set up. Dusan was practically bouncing as he watch me take in the view, he pulled from his back pocket a pair of vibrant orange drumsticks and moved towards the kit. He showed off more of that sexy manual dexterity as he positioned himself behind the kit, twirling the sticks around, much the way a baton twirler would I assume. He starts playing and I can tell from the first beat that he is good, really good, there are nuance’s in his playing that even I could pick up.

I notice a figure moving at the edge of my vision and look over to see Luka pick up his cello from the edge of the room and arrange his long limbs before starting to play himself, but I can also feel a dark cloud in the room and turn to see Stjepan pouting at the door arms crossed. Stjepan strides into the room and I am expecting trouble but he just walks over to a cello case and aggressively flicks it open and pulls out a black barely there instrument of his own and joins Luka in playing. It takes me a minute to get my brain around what I am hearing but then it dawns on me that it’s Highway to Hell. Who would have thought I would ever hear that on the cello. I settle into as chair and watch these three magnificent musicians play. They produce some amazing arrangements of songs I know but they also play others that are amazing but either unrecognisable or I’m just lacking in musical knowledge. Dusan stands sweating and walks to the cellists and they talk animatedly for a while, I feel like I’m listening in on something that shouldn’t be but it’s not like I understand what they are saying anyway. I must ask what language that is and why Dusan doesn’t have the same thick accent of the cellists. After a time it’s as if they remember I’m sitting watching and they all seem to get a little flustered by my presence. I excuse myself, but Dusan won’t have any of it, he runs to the door and stops me as Stjepan and Luka start playing again, this time a beautiful classical piece that I later find out called Benedictus. Dusan takes my hand and leads me to the mixing area where we watch the cellist play for a while, the whole time my hand is held almost possessively by Dusan. There’s a look of sadness on his face as he watches Stjepan play with his barely there cello while Luka plays on a gorgeous shiny wooden piece of art. I nudge him and he looks at me the sadness so obvious I want to cry for him but I reach up and hug him to me as a sob is released from the depths of his soul. He holds me only for a moment before pushing back from me and still holding my hand races from the studio and back into the villa, where after slamming the door he collapses into me and cries with such anguish that I don’t know what to say or do. I lead him to the bed and sit on the edge cradling him as he cries the sobbing breaking my heart. Time passes and the room gets dark but I can’t move from this man that obviously needs me so much and besides he has fallen asleep in my arms.

The sunlight blazing in the window awakens me as it always does, just as it is rising and I wonder for a brief moment where I am but then a weight shifts and I realise I have been sleeping with Dusan wrapped around me. I try to disengage myself careful of waking him but as soon as I move he grasps me tighter and I know there is no way I will get out of this bed without disturbing him so I lie quietly watching him sleep, his dark lashes fluttering as he dreams his beautiful lips slightly parted and his dark hair tousled in that very sexy bed head way. He looks so at peace but I really need to get out or we will both be lying in a puddle. I force my way out from under him as his eyes flick open and with a look that’s almost pleading he says ‘come back’. I have to make my excuses but he makes me promise to come back. So I escape for a few moments and sit trying to get my thoughts in order. Is this something I really want to do? Why him? What will this mean to my job here? Millions of questions and a thousand feelings fight each other in my brain. I have to decide, if I sit here much longer he’ll start to wonder if I made a break for freedom through the bathroom window.

Screw it! There is something about this man that attracts me in ways I haven’t felt in a long time some primal urge pushing me to him and why the hell not I’m a red blooded female if I want to have sex with him I’m allowed… aren’t I? Of course I am. I wash my hands, lift my chin and walk back out to the bedroom filled with resolve until I see him sitting there hair sticking out in that sexy messed up way, a shy smile just brushing his lips and the pink tinges of a blush upon his cheeks. I hesitate for barely a moment but there’s a flicker in his eyes as he notices, the little smile vanishes and his eyes dim. No I do not want that spark to dim and I want this man in so many ways. I smile and throw myself on the bed and tickle him until he laughs which I quickly smoother with a kiss that shocks us both and there’s is that moment of uncertainty before Dusan wraps his hands into my hair and pulls me to him the kiss hardening and deepening as my pulse quickens. I reach out to touch him, running my fingers down his neck and around the top of the shirt he’s still wearing from yesterday, in fact we are both still fully clothed, not for long as shirts, pants and undergarments disappear with a tornado effect around the room. I get my first look at this fine man in all his glory. He’s amazing, beautifully proportioned and toned with just enough hair to drive a woman to want to run her fingers through it, so I do running my hands over his chest feeling the muscles contract as my fingers tickle downwards and circle his belly. His erection flicks as the blood pulses through him and a figure why the heck not in for a penny in for a pound. I lower myself and lick his hot throbbing manhood to be rewarded with a low encouraging moan. I enjoy sucking so I take my time about enjoying this stunning man manoeuvring myself so that I can watch his face as I suck him. Dusan’s erotic facial expressions pushing me to go deeper, while I enjoy the feeling of the blood pulsing through his cock feeling his heart beat on my lips. I suck him almost to the point of no return before applying one last lick to the now very stimulated head and lifting myself up so I am straddling over him, teasing him with my hot dripping pussy. Dusan reaches up and cups my large heaving breasts and uses them to roll me off of him. He starts exploring my body licking, touching, biting and kissing every inch of my hot excited skin, biting playfully at my hard erect nipples before diving into my wetness licking and sucking his way through me into my very soul. With his teeth he works on my clit until I explode in an orgasmic rush screaming his name to the gods above. Dusan raises his wet glossy mouth to mine and kisses my flavours into me his tongue exploring my mouth in the same manner he had only moments ago explored my pussy. I feel his erection pushing at me slipping over the wet wanting mess he has left between my legs and I raise my hips in greeting as he enters me with a rush so forceful I scream again in both pleasure and pain. Dusan holds my wrists at my side as he pumps me with a potency I had not expected, holding himself over me in such an erotic masculine manner his arm muscles pulsing with the strain of holding himself up and penetrating me at the same time. His green eyes gaining that depth of colour that only arises went the pupils dilate. I can both see and feel he is reaching his own climax but as I expect him to release into me he stops, with the agility of a cat he raises both of us up until I am seated in his lap, impaled on his manhood. Dusan pulls me to him kissing me so deeply I think I may drown in it while he gently rocks us both towards the edge of the abyss, we both fall over the edge in screaming ecstasy.

It takes more than a long while for us to both climb our way back up to some form of balance, both of us wrung out, our nerve endings singing in delight. We lay there all day talking, me getting answers and explanations for the questions that had been buzzing around in my head. Dusan unloading all of the issues that had been plaguing both himself and his best friend, Stjepan. Obviously we did more than talk that day there was much exploring of unchartered manliness for me to discover.

The week passed in a haze of sex and music. Stjepan apologised for breaking his cello into my pool. I was allowed to watch as they both recorded their new song and the video to accompany it. The week was drawing to an end and decisions had to be made, did I want this to end? Did Dusan want this to end? Did I want to stay on this island that would never be paradise to me again without this beautiful man on it?

Saturday arrived and I could be found waving looking with sadness, hope and longing as my paradise disappears, then I turn and look into Dusan’s eyes as the boat carries us back to civilisation and think no maybe my paradise has just been found.

 

 


End file.
